My Own Two Feet
by Bandelero-Casanova
Summary: Bra has been pulled kicking and screaming into a world of darkness and danger. Her only help coming in the form of her reincanated Saiyan grandfather and a socially unstable Namek with a sheet for a cape, can Bra Briefs even make it out of this alive?
1. Change

**DRAGONBALL Z**

**DISCLAIMER****: Don't own~!**

**A/N: The remastered version! Lol.**

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**MY OWN TWO FEET**

**CHAPTER ONE: CHANGE**

A small sigh escaped her lips as she watched Marron giggle and hold up the magazine, a muscle-bound oiled-up fire-fighter clearly visible on the glossy page.

"Oh isn't he _gorgeous_!" laughed Marron, kicking together her sneakers as she lay on her stomach. The pale blue quilt of Bra's bed gathering in messy folds around the blonde girl.

"I suppose" muttered Bra from her desk, spinning about gently on her office chair. The one that she'd nicked from her mother's labs at least a week ago – Bra was honestly surprised that someone hadn't come looking for it yet. Long blue locks fluttering about as she bopped her head to the music being emitted from her stereo, a blank look upon her face.

With a grunt of disapproval, Marron propped herself up. Her eyes firmly focused on her childhood friend. "Are you alright?" asked the blonde, dropping her magazine to crawl closer to Bra. "Is there something on your mind?" For a ditzy blonde with a doting father and a hard-arsed mother, Marron was pretty good at sensing things. Things like people's moods. Just like the mood she was sensing now.

"Eh? No, what makes you think that?" Bra replied, her chin shooting up as she looked away. Jaw and arms tensed.

"Well firstly, you look almost as uptight as your father" said the blonde, sitting at the beds edge and leaning forward. Her bright yellow top hanging loose on her thin frame. Marron was thin, too thin and Bra knew exactly why. After a lifetime of watching Master Roshi's favourite television dramas (all featuring stick thin models), listening to her father's idea's about real women and the nightmares that had haunted her everynight for the last three years, Marron had developed more than a few quirky traits.

"Come off it!" snapped the blue-haired girl, settling down to look her companion in the eyes.

"I'm serious. Also, since when do you not give a shit about boys? We're sixteen, we like boys! We like boys A LOT" Maron exclaimed as she dove back to grab her magazine, pointing ferociously to the same picture of the fire-fighter. Her frantic movements –and the fact that Marron had forgotten that she was seventeen while Bra was only sixteen - sending Bra's already aching head spinning.

"I do like boys! I do! I guess… I'm just not feeling interested today" Bra exclaimed, tapping her scarlet flat slip-ons against Marron's heavily graffitied black Converse. Quirky fact: Marron only ever wears converse now, ever since Goku had pointed out how cute they looked one day. Why Marron ever listened to Goku's fashion advice Bra never knew but the blonde seemed to listen to the Saiyan's every breath.

"I noticed" sighed the yellow and black clad teen, her hand shooting up to fiddle with her earrings. An early birthday gift from her father, Krillin. "Listen, I better go. Dad's going to take me to the movies, I don't want to be late or anything" she said, giving Bra a quick pat on the arm and a quiet goodbye. Bra would never admit it but she adored the way Krillin took Marron out all the time, it made her wish her own father was just that little bit more hands-on.

"Yeah, okay" whispered Bra to herself as the bedroom door clicked shut. The footsteps of her friend barely audible over her mother's ranting aimed squarely at her father. The father she was apparently acting like right now.

She rubbed her arms, rejoicing in the warmth it produced but also enraged that this was the third time her recent attitude problem had led to Marron leaving with a cold goodbye. With a huff, the blue haired half-Saiyan leapt to her feet. Dragging herself out onto the balcony that she had absolutely begged Bulma to let her have. Bra leant over, her hands resting on the railing as she breathed in the cold air of the evening. Grunting, she dropped her head into her hands. "What's happening to me?" she exclaimed as she tugged at her hair, big blue eyes blinking back the tears that were forming.

"You tell me" came a coarse voice from behind her, making Bra jump. Without thinking she spun around, almost colliding with the man behind her.

"Daddy?" she gasped. Her nose almost touching his colossal chest. Bra's azure eyes searched her father's face, looking for some sign of emotion.

With a sigh, Vegeta let himself relax, a luxury he rarely allowed himself. Taking a step to the right, he sat on the wrought-iron railing of Bra's balcony. A smile crossing his face as he gazed down at the garden below.

"You and Goku really tore up the yard today" chuckled Bra, looking down at her feet as she leant her back against the railing. The darkness enveloping the father and daughter duo.

"That's not what I'm here to talk about, girl" said Vegeta, arching his neck to get a better look at the prize petunia's he had the pleasure of ruining earlier. It was a pleasure too, he'd enjoyed every minute of it. He hated those flowers, he really, really hated them.

"Dad…"

"Shut up and listen" snapped the Saiyan Prince, his piercing eyes locking onto his daughter's wide ones. "Your mother sent me up here, do you know that? She thinks something is wrong with you, she thinks you're hiding something from us" he continued, leaning forward slightly and speaking in a hushed tone. Trying not to show his own concern. Showing concern was not something Saiyan royalty did, at least, Vegeta's father had never shown him much concern.

Bra smiled, sighing peacefully and leaning further back. Not surprised in the slightest that her restlessness and discomfort had become noticeable to those around her. Rather, she was sort of glad that someone was asking her about it.

"Dad, I'm fine" she said, patting Vegeta's hand softly. While Vegeta was not an affectionate man, in private he would allow such coddling.

"I'd like to believe that… but I don't know if I can" he said, pulling away. Black hair shimmering in the pale moonlight. Its handsome tufts making Bra wish she looked a little more like her royal blooded father.

"I see…" mumbled the teenager, brushing the hair away from her face before bending to fix her shoes. Anything to look like she wasn't paying attention.

"Just… Just tell me what wrong. _Please_" Vegeta stressed the last word, his rough voice almost hissing it out. The request making Bra fling around and gaze angrily at him.

"I told you, nothing is wrong!" she grunted, slapping him on the shoulder. Reeling backwards as she realised what she had done. "S-sorry" she gushed. Her hands clasping together as she tried to look away. Had she really hit him?

"Dad, there really isn't anything wrong. I've just… I've just been thinking, you know, that I don't want to do this anymore" Bra exclaimed.

"What do you mean by that?" her father growled, a pang of fear creeping through him as he thought of his child developing so called "emo" habits. He'd watched enough television to noticed the trends and odd ways of children on Earth, though he'd always thought his daughter was above such things.

"All I ever seem to do is shop, shop, shop and shop! I'm sick of it! Look at you and Trunks, you're training day after day to become something, to become better… You know Dad, it just makes me wonder, if maybe…just maybe, there's something better out there for me" revealed Bra, edging closer to her stoic father. "Do you understand?"

"Yes" whispered Vegeta, a glove clad hand slowly crawling out from its place on his lap. He smiled, placing his hand atop her head. Patting his blue headed daughter fondly.

"Thank you" whispered Bra, her hands pressed against her heart as she closed her eyes. Relishing the rare act of affection.

"Your mother won't buy that all you want is some career direction" Vegeta sighed as he drew back his hand. His legs swinging back onto the balcony. With a quick stride the mighty full-blood strode back into the bedroom, looking back to see what his daughter would retort with.

Laughing, Bra looked up at the stars, taking a few precious moments to think up a decent excuse. "Just tell mum that I'm gay or a drug addict or something, it's the conclusion she's going to come to anyway" Bra huffed, waving goodnight as her father left her. Leaving Bra to consider what she had revealed to her beloved, all be it gruff, father.

"Alright, so it's a career change I'm after" she said to herself, gazing up at the waxy moon. Her thin hand raised above her head, she unfocused her eyes, pretending to enclose her grasp around the white, mystical orb in the sky. "Perhaps, something slightly exciting" Bra whispered as she pushed off the railing, stepping back into her pastel-colour themed room. Her eyes growing heavy as she crawled onto her bed, mind racing with thoughts about the future.

"Yeah, something exciting…"


	2. Hurdles

**DRAGONBALL Z**

**DISCLAIMER****: Don't own~!**

**SPECIAL THANKS TO: ****Smallbluecapricorn, Pearl3, Vegica, sexy_jess, daughteralucard, Sark_Secret1 and OMG!!**

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**MY OWN TWO FEET**

**CHAPTER TWO: HURDLES**

The sleep caught in her eyes burned as she made her way down the street, Bra's bright scarlet heels tapping against the pavement as she minced her way down to the bus station.

"I'm going to do this, I'm going to do this!" the blue haired beauty told herself but a deep swirling in her stomach persisted in saying just the opposite. The disheartening events of the morning still fresh in her tender mind.

*******

"You don't need a job sweetie, you're young, let me and Grandpa take care of you!" Bulma said as she sliced fruit, her swift movements with the knife slightly scaring the teenager opposite her. The brutal technique reminding Bra of Chi Chi's cooking skills. The stainless steel Capsule Corp. knives glittering in the early morning light as juice burst in small squirts from the fruit.

"But Mum, I want to do this! I want a job! You can't shelter me forever, I need to live!" Bra spluttered, dodging the movements of her grandmother Bunny behind her.

"Tsk, don't be a silly girl" Bunny whispered, her cheery tone ever present. The purple comb in Bunny's hand digging deeper and deeper into Bra's thick, knotted hair. "A nice day in the spa will fix all these silly thoughts up" continued the blonde, ignoring the screams of the teenager whose knots she was firmly tugging on.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! I want a job!" pleaded the girl. Her hands clenched on the bench top as she tried to escape. A desperate glance to her brother and father was cast in vain as both men tensed and backed away, Vegeta staying to hover in the kitchen doorway. His stomach growling ferociously.

Infuriated and frustrated, Bulma slammed the knife down onto the bench. Her short blue shock of hair wobbling slightly as the snapped over to look her daughter straight in the eyes. "NO!" she said, clear and simple. The authority in her voice making Bunny drop the comb in shock and Bra shiver slightly.

"It's just not on Bra. You don't even realise what hard work is, how can you be expected to perform it?" Bulma hissed, making even the cut banana on the bench cower in fear.

"M-mum…" Bra stuttered. The tears welling up in her eyes, her nose burning as she tried to hold back. Spluttering on the spot.

Without prompting, Vegeta stepped forward. His stern, cold façade hiding the concern he held for his children, the only things in his life he was truly and utterly devoted to. Coming to rest his hands against the end of the bench, his calm, powerful stride lacking the force needed to draw Bulma's eyes away from her child's teary eyes.

"That's enough" he said. His hand drawing the knife away from his wife, unsure whether she had picked up _all _of Chi Chi's dangerous habits. Vegeta's minds-eye raced with memories of his rival, Goku, being chased down by the mad harpy and her always-close-by fry pans, knives and brooms.

"I'm just trying to protect her" sighed Bulma, resting her hands against her hips. The blue haired mother starring defiantly at her rebellious husband.

"Bullshit, you're smothering her" Vegeta spat. Stepping forward, he closed the distance between himself and his mate. His chest heaving under his tight black t-shirt. "She needs to live, she needs…"

"This isn't the Saiyan Empire, oh mighty Prince! You can't just decide what she needs and doesn't need" Bulma shook with rage as she faced down the former royal. Her fear of him subsiding long, long ago.

"Fuck you" howled Vegeta. His hand slamming down onto the bench, fingers smooshing into the chopped banana that was supposed to be his breakfast. "Crap…" he whispered, looking down with dismay. Stomach growling and temples throbbing. His obvious displeasure drawing the attention away from the situation at hand.

Sniffling, Bulma smacked her hand across her mouth, hidding her laughter. "It wasn't that funny" whispered Vegeta, a deep crimson blush crawling across his cheeks.

"It was, it really was" howled Bulma, supporting herself on the bench. Tears rolling down her face as she slid down to the floor. Seeing this opportune moment for what it was, Bra crept from her family's clutches. Her thin hands shutting the front door behind her with an almost silent click. Now, the beauty strode down the street with a wavering determination in her eyes. Pushing back the fear she felt and trying to replace the feeling with thoughts about catching the first bus of her life. As Bra's _Prada _handbag swayed under her shoulder, she watched the monolithic beast of a bus race forwards to her stop. Its egg yolk yellow exterior was worn and mucky, the very sight of the thing made Bra's mind scream with fear.

It's engine roaring as she stepped aboard and gazed blankly at the driver. "School concession, half price. State your destination, please" blubbered the aging man. The deep black rings under his eyes wobbled with his many sagging layers of skin and fat. A cold sweat running down his brow as he sucked in an open-mouthed breath and gawked at the scantily clad Bra Briefs. Smacking his lips, he looked her up and down, up and down, a chuckle and a sickening smile oozing out of his morbidly obese being. His oily nose and sharp wiry hair not assisting in his rather unattractive appearance.

"E…Eh?" she gasped, quivering. The monstrous driver firmly pinned as her first challenge to conquer. Though, perhaps, not today.

Giggling nervously, the sixteen year old backed away. Carefully sliding back down the stairs onto the pavement below. Sliding back down to safety. "Bad idea, real bad idea! Horribly horrible idea!" she gasped, running down the pavement. Her still developing cleavage almost jiggling out of her red and white stripped tube-top as she tried to hurry away from the most horrifying person she had ever seen.

As she reached her slightly unwelcoming, dome shaped home, Bra felt a pang of defeat shoot down her spine. The idea of admitting her failure to the women of the Brief's household suddenly seeming like a nightmare. Pausing to breathe, the young lady threw her legs over the picket fence. Climbing around the back of the yard, the laundry door welcoming her with open arms. It was an almost perfect entry, nobody would ever know. So, with tears of defeat welling up in her orb-like cyan eyes, Bra crept back upstairs. Craving her favourite hidey-hole, the place where she could go no matter how bad she felt.

For years upon years she had hid here, in the attic. It was her own little fortress. A place where she could hide no matter how horrible she felt, a place where she could sit back and enjoy the simplicity of life itself without having to concern herself with anything beyond the slanting, timber walls and the cloth covered boxes of old.

Ignoring the dust around her, it's wafting waves hurting her chest, she pried open the door before her. Sobbing, the half-saiyan sighed as she entered the room. The dim light of the family attic making the previously vile dust look like fluttering fairies in the still air. The small sparkles danced around and brought an instant smile to Bra's pale face. The freedom and carelessness of the "fairies" every movement making her heart squirm with delight. With a grunt the Brief's Heiress sat down against the wall, the cool of the mirror on her back bringing a slight relief to her miserable heat.

"Defeat is another step in life, another step towards a certain victory. If your strong enough to chase it" came a voice from above, it's thick but calm tone drawing Bra's graze towards the ceiling and towards something very much unexpected. There, arms folded, stood her father. Upside down and using his Ki to suspend himself on the low beams. His eyes fixed on the window before him.

"Dad?"

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**A/N: **Vegeta really does love his kids, aye? I think he does – I'm trying to highlight that love throughout this fic. Though he's got room to develop, everyone in this tale does. Review and tell me what you think!


	3. Antiques

**DRAGONBALL Z**

**DISCLAIMER****: Don't own~!**

* * *

**OWN TWO FEET**

**CHAPTER THREE: ANTIQUES**

Cerulean eyes grew wide as Bra watched her father close his own onyx orbs. His body planted firmly upside-down on the ceiling. He was suspended there, using his own ki to hold him up. Why he wanted to stand upside-down Bra would never know – all she did know was that sometimes Vegeta was odd like that.

"Daddy?" the young woman asked, gently tugging up her top. Fully aware that her chest might stick out just a bit too much from the angle her very proper and strict Saiyan father was positioned.

With a horrible sigh, Vegeta dropped his head down, looking at his blue-haired daughter. "This is the second time in as many days that I, the Prince of Saiyans, has had to act like some teenage councilor! Do you understand how bloody annoying this is?" he said blankly, frowning. His stomach jumping slightly as his little girl smiled and her cheeks grew red. She looked so much like her mother.

Gently, Bra giggled. "I-I'm sorry" she whispered, a hand over her mouth. Her father's scowl not threatening her in the slightest.

It had always been like that though, Vegeta had never scared Bra. Not like he scared and intimidated the others. Krillin, Yumcha, Piccolo and even his own family held Vegeta, not in high esteem, but at an arm's length really. The distance between them was the best form of protection from the arrogant prince and his unpredictable attitude. The same unpredictable attitude that had lead to the total destruction of the Brief's family petunias the previous day.

"You don't know the meaning of the word" he snapped, a bush of raven hair moving slightly as he shook with frustration. Sighing again and letting a wave of calmness engulf him, after all, a relaxed state is much better feeling than an angry but inevitably un-violent state. (How he hated the lack of violence in his life! It was thoroughly unsatisfying…)

"You're… You're trying hard, I can see that but how do you expect to amount to anything if you don't overcome the hurdles in you're path?" Vegeta mumbled, gently floating towards the ground.

"Dad, I don't do hurdling… I flunked gym"

With a look of slight horror, Vegeta continued, "… What I mean is, you need to be strong and push through those difficult things that are lying in you're path". His tone was slow, forcefully monotonous too. The prince being ever so careful with his choice of words – not that he thought his child to be an idiot, just that he knew she wasn't exactly the brightest star in the sky.

Or as human's preferred to say: she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box.

Vegeta quite liked crayons… they came in such a range of colours.

"Like the time I got locked in the toilet and had to push the door open by myself?" questioned the seated beauty, her head resting against her shoulder as she watched her now perfectly-upright father standing beside her.

"…sure why not" huffed the older Saiyan. He scratched his chin and meandered through the dusty attic, which, although he would never admit it to Bra, was also _his _private sanctum. His fortress away from the hectic, chaotic and repulsive world of humans.

Tilting his head, Vegeta cracked his neck. A soothing relief rolling over his shoulders as the built up pressure dissipated through his lean body. With a slow and steady motion, he pushed his way through the numerous piles of boxes. Keen eyes looking for something that he knew was lurking somewhere in the thick layers of dust and mountainous stacks of assorted objects.

Raising on her knees, Bra couldn't help but watch as her father shuffled through the attic. Her eyes watering and throat burning as she stifled a laugh when the oh-so-powerful prince lost his balance. His waving arms sending boxes cascading towards the ground. Ignoring his accident, Vegeta pressed on.

Smirking as his eyes found their target, the wise prince knelt down. His hands enclosing around the handles of a small metal safe-like box. The grey square was heavy between his hands. Pulling himself back up, Vegeta edged towards his daughter. Sitting cross legged before her before he began to unlatch the many latches of the rather threatening looking safe.

"When I came here, I had nothing. _Virtually nothing_. Just a few little things, things from my home and things from my travels. From nothing I became one of the greatest warriors in the universe" said Vegeta, pushing back the lid and letting it thump unceremoniously onto the floor. In front of anyone else, he would have referred to himself as _the_ greatest warrior in the universe but in the safety and privacy of his own home he was more willing to admit that he wasn't.

With a lightning swift speed, Vegeta practically dove into the box. Fumbling through pieces of paper, small trinkets and things that were to heavily wrapped for Bra to see. Pausing, the prince leant back, content in what he had found. He resealed the box, holding a hand to his chest. A small, paper-covered object resting in his palm when he brought the fist down.

Without talking, he eyed it, as if unsure of what he should do with it next. Slowly, methodically, he turned it between his calloused fingers. It was round, though oval in shape and had a flat base. If Bra had to guess, she would have guessed that it was a trinket box.

She was partially right.

Vegeta handed the object over finally, though he did it with some resentment and a plainly visible sadness in his dark eyes.

"W-what is it?" asked Bra, as the heavy weight dropped into her thin, pale fingers. Her thumb gently rubbing open the tiniest piece of paper. Vegeta never answered, his eyes, slightly watery, were focused on the ground.

"One of the few things that got me through … through all this" he said, standing up and flexing. He continued, "Take care of it, it was my mother's". The sadness did not leave his voice as the prince left the room, his stride unusually slow and wobbly. As if his feet were dragging him without his mind knowing.

Bra twitched slightly as she looked down at it, a wave of sadness sweeping over her like a tidal wave. Her father's precious trinket, wrapped and sitting in her hands. Hands which were only half the size of her father's mighty full-blood ones.

Her heart pulsed and tingled deep inside her chest, a pins-and-needles like feeling coursing through her body as she peeled open the first layers of paper. The tarnished, dirty paper crumbled between her fingers, falling apart and drifting down onto Bra's lap.

The layers were thick, as if Vegeta had wrapped and hidden it away for years. Only new strips of tape showed when the young (for his race) prince had carefully opened the wrapper to see his little toy. Brushing off the last layer, Bra gasped as she observed the unwrapped object.

Like she had guessed, it was a small oval trinket-box. Coloured a dull gold with small bumps running in circles up its frame. On the bottom, it was flat, designed so as to sit peacefully upon a table or cabinet. However, on its top, was a circular enamel disc. The disc, red like blood, seemed to shine as if brand new. The miniscule black silhouette of a woman looking vibrant, if not slightly menacing.

Or at least Bra thought it was menacing. For, as she gazed down curiously at the silhouette, Bra noted the sharp nose and angular chin of the mighty, unnamed woman. Lifting a similarly coloured crimson nail, the teen lightly prodded the image.

Again she tapped it, this time slightly harder. Snapping backwards as a small click came from the box, the disc lowering just a tad.

"It's a button" she whispered, watching intently as the upper half of the oval box rose. Thin gold pillars, like those of a carousel, elevated the top half to reveal a small black crystal in the bottom halves centre. Nothing impressive, it could have been costume jewellery for all Bra knew. "How peculiar…" began the daughter of Bulma Briefs, Bra's mind ticking away in such a way that would have made her genius mother proud.

Suddenly, a toothy smile split across Bra's normally rather sober face. A dreamy tune drifting to her ears from the contraption in her hand. It's sweet, melodious tune making her eyes heavy and her body ease backwards into a comfortable lean. "…it's just a music box. How lovely" she whispered, wondering if her father had known about the small objects ability.

Heaving the box up to her face, the blue-haired bombshell narrowed her eyes. Staring deep into the darkened centre of the crystal between the two halves of the golden box. She raised an eyebrow though, as a sparkle of light seemed to surface on the blackened outer of the gem, the odd light steadily growing, swirling like purple paint in a black blender.

Her breath hitched and her chest felt tight. Electricity running up and down her spine as Bra felt a bead of sweat run down her suddenly sweltering exterior. Madly, she thrust her head up, unable to speak as the attic around her fazed in and out of her vision.

"D-daddy!" she somehow yelped, falling forward, not onto her new treasure… but rather, into it.


	4. Tactless

**DRAGONBALL Z**

**DISCLAIMER****: Don't own~!**

* * *

**OWN TWO FEET**

**CHAPTER FOUR: TACTLESS**

"Wake up" came the sharp snap of a rough voice.

"I said, wake up! That means now!" came the voice again, rude and high pitched. "Oh, get up you lazy, lazy girl!" it came for a final time, a hand slapping Bra on the face ever-so-slightly. Eventually stirring the Saiyan descendant from her unpleasant slumber.

"Mum?" grunted Bra, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. She coughed, a pungent scent caught in her senses.

"Not in the slightest" answered the voice, urging Bra to look up towards the unknown person.

Bra's bright blue orbs glanced up, angrily. Locking onto the figure that hovered before her. Bra blinked, aware that the woman was a complete and total stranger to her.

"Well, what are you staring at?" snapped the woman, looking roughly in her early sixties. Short strawberry-blonde hair and salmon coloured suit looking immaculate and more refined than any other outfit Bra had seen. A big diamond broach sitting like a badge of honour upon her chest.

"You" replied the teen bluntly. Her answer making the elderly woman slam her hands against her hips; her thin, sharp nose pointed in the air as she looked down at Bra.

"That is no way to speak to your grandmother!" spat the salmon monstrosity before she turned her back, marching off to a dresser at the opposite end of the circular, windowless, yellow-gold room.

Bra choked on the words. "Grandmother? I think y-you're mistaken!" she laughed nervously, waving her hands in front of her face. Desperately searching for a door or window… or opening of any kind. None of which Bra could find in the small room, which contained merely a bed, dresser, desk and bookshelf. That and an incense burner which was puffing out some sort of horrible purple smog.

"No, I'm not. I'm never mistaken" retorted the old bat, puffing up her hair and taking a seat at her dresser. Reapplying her lipstick in the mirror.

"Listen lady, I have grandparents! They're back home, like I should be! So if you'll just show me to the door than I'll be on my wa…"

The teen was cut off mid-sentence as the blonde woman gazed at her from the reflection in her mirror. Her sharp, black eyes were glaring daggers at the teenager.

"Your father had parents too" she suddenly hissed at Bra, puckering her lips and adding another coat of bright crimson. "In fact, darling, I'm your Daddy-dearest's mother!" laughed the grandmother-figure. Her thin spine seemed to poke out of her coat.

"She's dead" Bra uttered, scowling at the seated elder-Saiyan. "If you were really my grandmother, you'd have a Saiyan tail!" the girl snarled, casting her legs over the side of the bed and sitting, facing the scrawny back of the stranger.

"Oh I did, I did have a tail but you see, I sold it. I sold it to the gods in return for my life, a life trapped within these dreary walls of gold and jewel alike!" said the stranger, casting aside the lipstick and picking up a large powder-puff. Its fluffy particles sticking to and brightening her sun-deficient skin. Which had become somewhat sallow after years of confinement.

"I've been here, stuck in this little crap-hole excuse for a music-box for nigh on thirty years! Waiting, just waiting for _someone _like you to stumble in and finally help me!" snorted the woman, smoothing out the sheets with her hands.

"Me? You want _me _to help _you_?" Bra exclaimed, the comment nearly punching all the air from her lungs.

"Not want… Need you to help me, darling" corrected the ancient Queen, picking the fluff from her time-worn sheets. "You're the only one that can after all" she added, giving her new granddaughter a fleeting smile.

"Yeah, and what do I get in return?" Bra narrowed her eyes, clenching her fists as she glared at this odd figure.

"Well firstly, I get you out of here-" laughed the woman, rolling her hands around the room. "- Secondly, love, I can give you the thing you've been desiring so, so badly" she added, the words oozing off her Saiyan tongue as if they were honey.

Wide eyed and blank faced, Bra could have choked. "What?" she whispered.

"I'll fill in that little hole in your life, I'll give you something to live for. Something to improve upon!" chuckled the grandmother, stoking her chin.

"H-how can you do that! You don't even know me!!" Bra shouted, backing off the bed and against a wall. Nervous, slightly scared and desperately wishing her father was there.

"Oh but I do!" said the Queen, mincing over and plucking Bra's hand up towards her weathered face. "You-" the Queen began, turning over the young girls hand "- are so like me. Born, not only with the best of your Saiyan blood… but also, with the gifts that are so rare among the plebs of society".

The salmon-covered woman just about hissed every word. Placing her hands around Bra's single, tiny one. She knelt closer, whispering into Bra's ear, "I'm a witch".

The blue haired half-blood coughed, clasping her eyes closed as she felt the warm, sticky breath of the unknown upon her neck. "And so are you" the woman added, before pulling away and taking a seat at her dresser.

Shaking, those vivid blue eyes opened but nothing could hide Bra's contorted face.

"That's impossible! I can't be a witch, I've never done anything magical!" she howled, her stomach turning and swirling insider her.

"Oh it is possible, it's certain infact. That's the only way you could get in here, your magic dragged you in", Bra stood open-mouthed, trying to analyse what was being said.

"Magic isn't about wands and capes and lightning bolts on foreheads, you're an idiot if you think that. Magic, dear, is raw and dirty. It's gritty and tough and it takes a real woman to became one!" the woman said proudly. Powdering her nose again, "Not everyone can bind a boggart, you know".

"Now, about helping me-"

"WHAT DO I GET IN RETURN?"

"Magic, Bra, the ability to fulfil yourself completely… and all you have to do is run a few errands for me" the sweet tongued woman laughed as she spoke, the sharp notes oddly calming to Bra.

"Errands?" Bra asked, knowing it couldn't be so simple.

"Errands, though the technical term is Insurance Policies. I have thirteen, scattered everywhere… and when you find them, you open the policy and I come one step closer to being freed! It's that simple!" came the laugh. "Almost like hunting those dragonballs your family adores ever so much".

"That's all?" Bra couldn't hold in her sigh of relief. If collecting Insurance Policies was anything like collecting Dragonballs, than she'd be fine.

"Absolutely! I even have the first Insurance Policy right here" the Queen sang, waltzing through her room to the bed. Her hands enclosing around a plushie, one in the distinctive figure of a black cat. Which she then handed abruptly to Bra.

"We're running out of time, ten more minutes and you'll be stuck here too!" gasped the Queen with a glance at her watch. Flicking out a piece of paper and pen from her sleeve, "Sign here" so Bra signed, "and here", so Bra signed again. "Okay, you're ready to go! Now remember, he prefers to be called Your Majesty" chirped the Saiyan, pushing the younger girl towards her dresser mirror.

"WHAT?!"

"Oh, and love…call me Clarice" the Queen smiled, pushing -that's right, pushing- Bra's head into the glimmering reflective surface. Sending a sudden blast of icy coldness across Bra's unblemished, porcelain skin. The silvery mirror seemed to ripple like water as Bra entered it, cat-toy clutched safety in her arms as it swallowed her whole and, for a brief moment, the royal descendent felt as if she were floating in a sea of emptiness.

Slowly, she breathed out. The vivid memory of Queen Clarice fading away into some deep, hidden darkness. There was a calmness to the hazy surroundings, a cloudy-sea of grey and violets that surrounded the confused teenager whose eyes seemed weighed down. She struggled, casting a hand out into the nothingness of the place, only to have it left dangling in a lilac puff. Closing her eyes, Bra drifted off. The darkness consuming her very being.


	5. The Remarkably Short Chapter

**DRAGONBALL Z**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! (-' '-) -- Look it's Piccolo!! (I couldn't get his antenna's long... :sobs:)**

**THANK YOU: To those who review Chapter 4, I don't know who you are yet as I just published it! Though I'm guessing (more like hoping) it's mah regulars... VEGICA, smallblue and Sexyjess! Thanks again!!**

**AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter is really small, I can't believe I made it like that! One of my best friends is always telling me off for writting small chapters, but sometimes it's just how the story unfolds. Agreed? . Sorry about it being short.**

**AUTHORS NOTE 2: Well, I've updated twice in one night! That's legendary for me!! However, I wont be writting all this week so there won't be any updates. I'm heading off for a camp tomorrow morning (ew, I have to be up at 4:00am!!), I can't wait! Though it's shattering that I can't type fanfics for the duration of the camp... I'll be thinking of it that's for sure.**

**Anyway... See you all in a weeks time!!**

* * *

**OWN TWO FEET.**

**CHAPTER FIVE: THE REMARKABLY SHORT CHAPTER**

She clutched her head as consciousness came back to her, a mop of blue falling in her eyes as Bra tried to sit up.

"Again? I got knocked out again?" she groaned, brushing the dirt off her knees as she blinked back her sense of sight. The room around her was fuzzy but pleasingly familiar, the floating dust fairies of the Brief's Family attic warming the teens heart.

Gasping, she looked down, bursting into dry sobs as she saw the gold trinket of her grandmother's clutched between sweaty fingers. "It was only a dream! None of it was real!" she laughed, dropping the bauble box onto the ground carelessly.

"None of _what_ was real?" came a thick voice above the girl, making Bra scuttle backwards in shock. Her oval face darting back and forth in search of the mysterious voice.

"W-who's there!? THIS IS NOT FUNNY!!" she howled, jumping to her feet. Stamping past boxes until she heard the voice again.

"Over here!" it mewed.

Instantly Bra stomped over to it, staring down furiously before recoiling, a small black cat perched upon a stack of boxes looking equally as curious at her.

"Sorry if I startled you" it purred, a tiny tag dangling from around it's royal-blue collar.

"You're a _**cat**_… Where'd you come from?" whispered a puzzled human to a confused cat.

"I came from wherever you came from, that's all I can remember of that anyway" it answered, bobbing it's head as if nodding in some sort of thought.

"With me?" Bra pondered the words, gritting her teeth as she cast a horrified look back at the dastardly music box, "**WITH ME? FROM THE BOX!!**" she yelped as she grabbed the cat by the paws.

It meowed in fright, looking away from the seemingly giant girl. "Yes, yes, I came from the box! Let me go!" it gushed, trying to pull away. Black fur escaping the cat in chunks, drifting into Bra's face.

"Who are you, Kitty?"

Jumping out of Bra's hands, the cat bolted towards the door. Turning around in the light of the window. "Well, they used to call me _Your Majesty_…" it purred, "and I used to be the Saiyan King!". Giving the best smile it could, the cat-like King puffed out it's chest in pride. Thirty years as a stuffed-toy _Insurance Policy_ really didn't give him any time to boast about his once grand empire.

"Oh you are shitting me".


	6. Insurance

**DRAGONBALL Z**

**DISCLAIMER:**** I own nothing!**

**A/N: It has been too long, I'm so very sorry. After I got home from camp… things just got away from me. So I hardly ever updated anything, and always this was at the back of my mind. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you hanging so long, hehe. While I wait for university to start I should be updating more, so that's good, ne?**

**I also got a job! So, because I know I have to borrow a lot of money this week and intend to pay it back to my parents, I've decided that my SECOND pay check is going straight towards DRAGONBALL Z Season 1, uncut and remastered! So hot!! =D Vegeta FTW.**

* * *

**MY OWN TWO FEET**

**CHAPTER SIX: INSURANCE**

A rather heavy looking blue haired teenager staggered down from the attic of the Capsule Corps. Household and as she staggered to and fro, Bra couldn't help but grimace. This was so degrading. With her hands tucked firmly on the front of her pelvis, her stomach protruded before her in an almost whale like fashion. If her father caught her like this she'd never hear the end of it.

"I've already decided I hate you" she whispered, squeezing her belly tight. A soft mew escaping the stretched designer fabric. Designer fabric – well it had been once, after this the prized red top would resemble something from the Options + section of Target.

Ah, Target, the mass producing clothing retailer from Bra's nightmares. The cyan-haired demi-saiyan hadn't been in one since she was four and never again did she intend to enter one. Not when Prada and Jimmy Choo were easily able to dress her in a much nicer way.

Shaking her head, Bra focused on the task at hand. With each step she was edging closer to her bedroom and thus closer to a secure place where she could wrap her head around the insanity that seemed to be surrounding her. One glittery red heel before the other, she snuck forwards. Gritting her teeth as the unmistakable sound of a door opening behind her echoed through her ears.

"Shit"

"Bollocks"

"Bollocks?" questioned a stationary Bra to her stomach, her eyebrow raised at the tiny face visible from the opening.

The cat, a stone black kitty, gazed up with a little smirk. "I guess the finer points of language and literature are lost on today's teenagers" he laughed, his Majesty then burying his face back down against his granddaughter's body.

In response Bra could only huff, cringing as she realized how damn like her father she was becoming. Her attention back onto the looming footsteps and close of the formerly opened door.

"Bra? You alright sis, kinda look a bit hunched over?" came the gravelly voice of Trunks Briefs behind her, his arms crossed around his chest as he stood in wait. A loose purple jacket folding around sculpted muscles.

Instantly Bra panicked. And, from within her shirt, His Majesty frowned and hissed out at her – what had he done to deserve such a ditzy grandchild? "Gah! Um! PERIOD~!" yelped Bra. Her eyes were wide and, without taking into affect that she was wearing stilettos (which are damned hard to run in), she bolted. Trunks' howl of disgust roaring through the hallway behind her as she went flying into her bedroom. Slamming the door behind her, she stumbled and landed against her bed.

The small body of His Majesty squirming out from beneath her top with all the force he could muster. "That was HORRIBLE!" he gasped, looking over at the panting teenager as if she had just ruined his favourite dinner. Which, he would be happy to admit, was flaked fish in pasta. Preferably with tomatoes and garlic – but he'd have it any other way to boot, he loved fish.

Maybe that's why Clarice had made him into a cat?

"Well what did you expect? I can't just walk out of the attic and march through my house with a talking cat! I mean, it's not like you're the first one I've seen... but still. You're not cool. I can't show you around, I'd get in so much trouble" stuttered the bluette. Fixing her top and hoiking up her breasts, to which the onyx cat hid away his face.

"Back in my day..."

"Back in your day they'd just discovered fire and thought malaria was an exotic dancer! Now just listen here –" Bra lowered a threatening finger, "-WHAT is going on? I am so confused that if I don't get answer than I'll have you fixed!"

The cat's face twitched, his mind racing as he looked about. Everything just seemed so big. Or maybe it was just because he was so small now. Had he not been at least a hundred years old than the old Saiyan King would have been in a terrible state, but his age and the knowledge of his wife's craft led him to a somewhat calmer mood. There was one question on his mind though, "What do you mean by fixed, girl?"

Well, that was that. With an open palm the teenage girl shoved the black moggy off the bed, growling at him as she did so. "You idiot! I thought you were meant to be a king, where the heck are those answers I want!?"

"Well I'd need a question first"

With her hands wrapped tightly around a pillow, Bra eyed the cat lying on the floor. Its soft furry stomach facing the ceiling. Chuckling, His Majesty rolled about; this was fun. Much funner than being a human rolling on the ground – that had ended badly more than once.

Softly Bra sighed, she started slowly, just like she'd seen on those detective shows: "Who are you?"

Puffing out his chest again, His Majesty adorned a look of pride. "King Vegeta of the planet Vegeta, late king of the Saiyan race – and assuming that you are the daughter of my son, Vegeta, than I suppose I am your grandfather"

Bra nodded, "Uh huh... and why are you here?"

"Because you made a deal with my wife" His Majesty King Vegeta whispered, he looked somewhat shamed, as if he knew something horrible.

"I... Yeah, that deal. So it's true? If I collect all those 'insurance policies' of hers than she'll give me some sort of magic – something to fill my life" for a brief moment Bra looked as sullen as her grandfather, "I can't believe I signed something like that... it seems like such a – a – a..."

"A scam?" King Vegeta piped, looking up. "It's a rough deal, sweet. You have another twelve policies to find with only a year to do so..."

"Or what?"

"Or you die. Your life given in exchange for Clarice's" His Majesty's voice was so faint and deep that it was hard to hear it, but every word seemed to imprint on Bra's brain. She would die if she couldn't do this; it was a shockingly high price.

Her parents were going to kill her when they found out.

"T-that's bullshit! She can't do that!!" cried Bra, slipping down onto the floor and pinning the cat against the floor.

"You'll find she can! She couldn't mention it to you, its part of her prison requirements per say, though it was all written in that contract you signed"

"Shit"

"Bollocks"

Bra sat back, this sucked. This really really sucked. Sobbing, she clutched at her knees. "I... My parents are going to absolutely kill me" she said. "I can't tell them this – this is too much. I can't do this..." her voice trailed off, her face disappearing against satin legs.

His Majesty, the former king, watched miserably. He felt so guilty. As if this whole mess was his own damned fault and, as he watched his only granddaughter shed tears of fear and hopelessness, he knew it was his fault. It was his fault that he'd led his race astray, it was his fault that he got meddled up with Frieza, his fault his race were lying in shallow graves... and his fault that the woman he loved most in the world had to trick his own flesh and blood into saving their lives.

"We can do this" he stammered. Waddling forward and placing a soft black paw against Bra's foot, his claws digging into the red of her Prada's. Normally she would have kicked away such a cat, but this was different. Firstly, he was her grandfather. Secondly, she figured she wouldn't need them when she was dead.

"No, no we can't. You –a fucking king- are stuck in the form of a freakin' cat! And I'm a stupid teenage girl who can't even fly and thought that Muslim was a freaking country!" she wailed, hands over her eyes. "How can we find these stupid things!? I have no idea where to even begin – and I CANNOT tell my parents about this, they'd simply go spare!" Bra's eyes were filled with tears. She bit her lip, unable to believe that she was able to cry anymore.

"What is your name?"

Bra's face shot up, her brow furrowed as she watched the hardened face of the cat. "Bra. Bra Briefs"

Tenderly the cat climbed up onto her lap, the same little black paw rising up and patting the bluette on the cheek. Bra's lips pouty and she tried not to squeal as the adorable little cat smiled up at her.

"Bra... I know we can do this. I won't let you die"


End file.
